For decades, the default choice when buying an executive luxury sedan has been the Mercedes-Benz S-Class. But what if you want to stand out from your fellow titans of industry in their everyday Newport Nissans? What if you shudder at the thought of dropping 100 large on a depreciating asset?

We’ve got you covered.

We assembled four Mercedes S-Class challengers from each major auto-producing nation to see which has the best shot at challenging the Merc on its throne. And because most of this country doesn’t have the cash (or credit) to easily part with six-figure sums, we set a rough $100,000 USD price cap on our luxury sedans, with each luxobarge sporting six-cylinders (or fewer) and all-wheel drive.

Our appropriate setting for the test: The tony coastal environs of Palos Verdes Estates, where you’ll quietly find one of the greatest concentrations of wealth in America. With views of the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island looming offshore, the average home value is $1.9 million USD, according to Zillow. From there, we would journey to Malibu, where the Hollywood elite sun and splash. Would any car not bearing a three-pointed star turn the heads of the landed and beached gentry?

Let’s take a look at the challengers.

From Germany is the S-Class’ archrival, the BMW 7 Series. Representing Bavaria’s best is the 2018 BMW 740e xDrive iPerformance. Powered by a 2.0-liter turbocharged I-4 paired with an electric motor, the 740e is an admittedly odd choice for this test, given the rest of our competitors are powered by twin-turbo V-6s. But considering the segment is moving toward increased electrification (and that no I-6-powered 740i models were available for testing), it was the right choice. Plus 14 miles (22 km) of EV range in a 4,700-pound (2,132-kg) limo is just plain cool. Our very lightly optioned 740e tester sneaks right in under our price cap, stickering for $99,845 USD.

There was a time when Lexus was seen as the new kid on the block challenging the established German automakers. Nowadays, Lexus is part of that establishment, and its latest fifth-generation LS is arguably the best since the original. Sporting bold styling to emphasize its confident stature in the face of Europe’s best, our LS 500 AWD tester costs around $103,000 USD.

Just as the original Lexus LS disrupted the luxury car space in 1989 with equivalent luxury to the Germans for a cut-rate price, Hyundai Motor is hoping to do the same with its upstart Genesis brand—representing South Korea’s sole global luxury brand is the 2018 Genesis G90 AWD 3.3T. Taking the place of the Hyundai Equus, the G90 is a remarkable effort at a luxury flagship, putting aside any questions as to whether the Koreans can do more than just imitate. And much like Lexus once did, the G90 takes a chainsaw to its competition’s price premium by selling for $71,825 USD.

Representing the stars and stripes is the 2017 Lincoln Continental AWD Black Label 3.0. Wait, you say, why isn’t the California-born and -bred Tesla Model S the American pick? After all, it is far and away the best-seller in this segment—it even outsells the Mercedes S-Class—so we reasoned we’d hold it back for a future test with this comparison’s winner and the S-Class. As for the “other” big American luxury car, the Cadillac CT6, well, it’s unimpressive, finishing third to the Mercedes E-Class and Volvo S90 in its last comparison. With no major changes to the CT6 since then, we thought we’d give the Continental, a proper flagship for the Lincoln lineup, its shot at glory. Our loaded Continental Black Label tester stickered for $79,780 USD. If it’s more expensive than the Genesis, it must be pretty good, right?

Whether luxury car buyers realize it, the holistic luxury car experience can be broken up into categories: the drive and the experience. The drive is pretty self-explanatory—it’s all about how effortlessly a luxury sedan wafts away from a stoplight, how quickly it gets up to speed, and how confidently the car rides and handles. The experience, on the other hand, entails the lavishness of the cabin and how it swaddles you in luxury. It’s about the thoughtful touches such as spacious executive back-seat packages, massaging leather seats, and cool metal door handles that click just so. In other words, it’s all about the things that make the car—and you by association—feel special.

With that in mind, let’s dig in.

The Drive

With such similar powertrains, you’d think that all four of our competitors would drive pretty much the same, but each has a unique personality from behind the wheel.

The BMW 740e is quite sporty, shockingly so for a big sedan. Its 2.0-liter turbocharged I-4 and electric motor powertrain combine for a middling 322 hp and 369 lb-ft of torque, giving it the lowest power output of all the sedans here. Yet this nearly silent sedan was the quickest of the bunch, thanks to smart use of carbon fiber (think of it as Cool Sculpting for cars). It’s just 7 pounds (3 kg) heavier than the lightest car in our test, the Continental. Add in short gearing of its eight-speed automatic and instant-on electric torque, and the 740e accelerates from 0 to 60 mph in 5.1 seconds and blows through the quarter mile in 13.6 seconds at 102.9 mph (165 km/h). Its handling performance is second-best in the test, lapping our figure-eight course in 26 seconds flat while averaging 0.71 g. But its braking performance brings up the rear with a 123-foot stop in our 60–0-mph test.

Away from the test track and on our test loop, the BMW is a solid driver. The Bimmer’s electric motor gives the 7 Series a helpful shove off the line, providing smooth, seamless acceleration until the four-cylinder’s turbocharger has time to spool up and provide boost. It’s also possible to creep along in stop-and-go traffic in the blissful silence that defines electric motoring. Even with its 9.2-kW-hr battery depleted, the 740e feels more powerful than its specs would suggest. But when the battery motors hand off duties to the engine, the tranquility is shattered as the gas engine fires up. “Lots of vibrations and unpleasant noises coming from the engine whenever it turned on or off—something I haven’t felt in other PHEVs,” said Motor Trend en Español editor Miguel Cortina.

Although its powertrain could perhaps use a bit of fine tuning, the Bimmer’s ride and handling is among the best here. The 740e’s steering is light and direct. The suspension is as adept at minimizing body roll on tight canyon roads as it is eating up strips of the rotten cliffside pavement eroding into the sea. “This is how you do luxury sedan ride and handling,” said associate editor Scott Evans. “The little bumps barely register, and the big ones are one and done. No floatiness at all.”

Just like Republicans and Democrats have effectively swapped ideologies over the years, BMW and Lexus seemed to have changed M.O.s in the past five years or so. The Lexus LS used to be soft and cushy, but now it offers up damn near sports car levels of performance. Its new 3.4-liter twin-turbo V-6 makes 416 hp and 442 lb-ft of torque, and when combined with its new 10-speed auto, it hustles the LS to 60 mph in 5.3 seconds and through the quarter mile in 13.7 second at 103 mph (166 km/h). Not enough evidence for you? The LS 500 lapped our figure eight in a test-best 25.7 seconds at 0.73 g, and it aced the 60–0 braking test with a 113-foot stop.

Driven back to back with the BMW, Genesis, and Lincoln, the Lexus feels an order of magnitude sportier than the rest of the pack. The new V-6 maintains the Lexus tradition of buttery-smooth revs, with plenty of low-end torque, and the automatic happily shunts through its 10 cogs in the background. However, if you ask for moderate or more acceleration from the LS 500, the V-6 struggles to move the 5,103-pound (2,315-kg) sedan, and the transmission’s shifts get harsh.

The LS 500’s steering is much more new-gen and away from the numb appliances of yore. Sporty, direct, and with a stiffness that will be unfamiliar to the Lexus legions, the LS 500 is a good set of tires away from being a true canyon carver. Our test car’s air suspension sorted out big bumps but struggled with small, high-frequency bumps such as the Botts’ dots that line California lanes. “We’re on pretty new pavement here, and I’m still getting lots of small vibrations from all the little bumps in the road you can’t see from the driver’s seat,” Evans said.

From a performance standpoint, the Genesis G90 splits the difference between the Lexus and Bimmer. The Hyundai-sourced 3.3-liter twin-turbo V-6, sporting 365 hp and 376 lb-ft of torque, helps get the G90 from 0 to 60 mph in 5.3 seconds, tying the LS 500, and through the quarter mile in 13.9 seconds at 99.9 mph (161 km/h). The Genesis can hang with the BMW in our handling tests, too. It laps our figure eight in 26.1 seconds at 0.72 g, just a tenth of a second behind the Bimmer but at a higher g. The G90’s 60–0 performance of 122 feet edges out the 740e by a foot.

Although the G90 is just a nose behind the LS 500 at the track, it couldn’t feel more different on the road. Everything about the Genesis G90 is as smooth as a Marvin Gaye ballad. Its engine and transmission are particularly noteworthy for how effortless they make the process of driving.

Dip into the throttle, and the G90 accelerates with pure elegance, with no noise from the V-6 under the hood and no physical sensation of gearshifts, save for the tach needle’s swing. The G90 imparts a sensation of calm capability to the driver. When the roads get twisty, the G90’s steering isn’t nearly as talkative as the Lexus’ or BMW’s, but it’s appropriate for the segment. Its ride falls between the 740e and LS 500; it doesn’t have the BMW’s solidity, but it handles bumps both large and small ever so slightly better than the Lexus.

The Lincoln Continental brings up the rear—though not by much—in our instrumented testing. churning out 400 hp and 400 lb-ft of torque under the hood and paired with a six-speed automatic, the Lincoln needs 5.5 seconds to accelerate from 0 to 60 mph and 14.0 seconds to finish the quarter mile at 100.4 mph (162 km/h). Despite the inherent disadvantages of Lincoln’s front-drive-based platform, the Continental’s torque-vectoring all-wheel-drive system helps the Lincoln hang with the others in the figure eight, lapping the course in 26.1 seconds at 0.70 g. The Continental has the second-best brakes of the group, needing 119 feet to come to a stop from 60 mph.

Out on the road, the Continental could benefit from a bit of finishing school. There’s too much unnecessary drama and not enough finesse for what purports to be a luxury sedan. “For a brand that has officially eschewed sportiness, it’s trying very hard to be sporty,” Evans said. “The throttle tip-in is aggressive, and the engine is loud. It’s difficult to leave a stop without being thrown back into the seat. It’s a powerful engine, but it feels like it hasn’t fully been tamed for the job.”

Unfortunately, the ride and handling balance also seem tilted a bit too far toward the ragged end of the spectrum, with a brittle, almost harsh ride quality, especially over larger impacts. The unexpected sportiness does have one positive trade-off, though, as all four of us found the Conti surprisingly fun in tight switchback corners.

There is a cure to the Continental’s harshness, though: Comfort mode. Buried under five layers of menus on the Continental’s instrument cluster, defeating the default sportier mode helps smooth out the Lincoln with an ever so slightly softer setting of the Lincoln’s electronic dampers, smoother throttle input, and lighter steering. Yes, this is an automotive journalist asking an automaker to not make Sport the default drive mode. Comfort vastly improves the Continental’s driving experience. We can’t help wonder how many potential buyers might opt for the Continental without such a harsh first impression if the car came equipped from the factory in this softer setting.

The Experience

The Lincoln makes a great first impression, but like its drive experience, it’s a bit inconsistent. Click open the doors with a gentle pull of the window-line-mounted door handles, and you’re greeted by an art deco–themed cabin swathed in contrasting white and black leather and flamed wood. The cabin, the second-smallest by passenger volume, feels refreshing and airy. Up front, the 30-way adjustable seats are supremely comfortable, and the back seat is Town Car–spacious, with reclining seats and an executive package for good measure. “It kind of takes you back to the era when the Continental had its golden years,” Cortina said.

Little details matter in luxury cars of this caliber, and unfortunately the Conti doesn’t hold up under our magnifying glass. The cabin, already on the sonically louder side in terms of exterior noise seeping in, suffers from squeaks and rattles from the fancy front seats and center console lid. Switchgear, both up front and in back, is also lacking the quality action and feel that the rest of the group exhibit.

These might seem like little things, but details matter in this segment. Example: The fonts for the Continental’s digital instrument cluster don’t match those of the Sync 3 infotainment system. You might not notice it on the test drive, but six months in, you’ll grit your teeth. “For better and worse, no car here is quite like the Lincoln,” senior production editor Zach Gale noted. “It delights and surprises in some ways but disappoints in others.”

The Lexus’ cabin matches the Lincoln’s for its distinctiveness but outstrips it in elegance. The LS 500’s interior perhaps isn’t quite as revolutionary as its LC sister’s, but it’s a huge step forward for the sedan, with beautiful wood, bright metallic trim running horizontally across the cabin, and a cool backlit piece of artwork on the passenger dash like in the new Rolls-Royce Phantom. The LS’ doors are also particularly noteworthy, with an artful origami-inspired finish.

“The Lexus blows the others away in making the owner feel rich and successful,” Gale said.

The Lexus gets most of the details right, but there are still a few disappointing misses. Despite having a longer wheelbase than the last-gen’s long-wheelbase model, the LS 500 has the smallest passenger volume of the group. It feels it, too, especially in back, where the adjustable executive-spec rear seat effectively doesn’t have any room to actually adjust—leaving adults sitting uncomfortably upright. Folding the front passenger seat forward helps some, but it’s a compromise no other sedan here needs to make.

The LS 500’s electronics are also baffling. The infotainment system remains the bane of the brand. Cluttered, unintuitive, difficult to navigate, and operated via a wonky touchpad on the center console, it is by far the worst user interface in the auto industry. We are thisclose to declaring it downright dangerous to operate while the car is in motion. We recommend caution and a clear, straight road when using it.

There are other frustrating electronic choices made by the Lexus team that severely detract from the luxury experience. The Lexus’ oncoming traffic safety alert system is overeager, distractingly turning the LS’ head-up display into flashing arrows and alerts at every stoplight. We’re also mildly annoyed by the LS’ insistence on beeping audibly inside the cabin when in reverse. “This is not a commercial vehicle,” Evans said. “Shut up.”

After the sensory overload of the Lexus’ electronics, the G90 is a welcome respite. Hop in the cabin, shut the door, and you’re in a peaceful sensory deprivation chamber. You know, like Lexuses used to be. The leather seats are “buttery smooth,” as Gale put it, and enormously comfortable both up front and in the cavernous rear passenger area. With much to prove, Genesis appears to have thought out every function of the G90’s interior—with high-quality materials on every surface and easy-to-find controls for everything from the 360-degree camera and radar cruise control to the infotainment system.

If there’s one criticism to make of the G90’s cabin, it’s that it takes no risks. It’s simple black leather with wood trim. “Really rich-looking” wood trim, Evans noted as a caveat, but it’s quite sterile compared to the visually stimulating Lincoln and Lexus. “Just imagine this interior with more interesting wood trim and a more exciting interior color” Gale said.

Our BMW 740e also seems to have been bitten by the boring bug—though in fairness to the BMW you can tack another $5K USD to our tester’s $99,845 USD as-tested price to inject a bit of color into the cabin. But our price cap once again highlights BMW’s insistence on offering expensive options packages that are standard features for most other automakers. Inside the base-equipped 740e, you’re frequently reminded of the options you’re missing, such as articulating front seats, the “executive” rear-seat package, or even the appearance of more than one USB plug. “I’m a little let down by this interior, but I guess this is what you get for competitive money,” Evans said.

Regardless of what the 740e’s cabin is missing, it’s serene, put together well, and spacious—edging out the G90 by a cubic foot for largest in our test. The cabin is also filled with much of the technology we’ve come to expect from flagship sedans, including a few gimmicks. The gesture-controlled audio functions are a waste of motion, but all agreed that the LED “red carpet” that illuminates when you unlock the 740e at night was pretty cool.

The Results

At the end of two weeks of testing, we all felt we could make a pretty compelling argument in support of purchasing any of these luxury cars. But only one truly nailed both the drive and experience criteria.

The sedan furthest from encapsulating all we expect from a flagship luxury sedan is the Lincoln Continental. There’s a lot to like about the Lincoln, from its art deco interior trim to its spacious cabin and tidy footprint. But its lack of polish unfortunately holds it back. “I really wanted the Continental to knock it out of the park,” Evans said. “Instead, it’s a base hit.”

Taking an honorable bronze medal is the BMW 740e. The 740e’s plug-in hybrid powertrain brings a lot in terms of luxury. It provides smooth, silent acceleration and trades the hassle of the gas station for the convenience of plugging in to charge at home. “Imagine going to a show across town and not using a drop of gasoline, in a very quiet cabin—that’s the appeal of having a plug-in,” Gale said. But as much as we like the powertrain, we don’t like having to pay more for options that are either standard or more affordable on the other three vehicles. At this lofty price point, we see no compelling reason to buy a 7 Series over the two cars that finished above it.

Sitting in second place by a nose is the Lexus LS 500. The new LS is worlds better than the version it replaces. It’s a compelling, fun-to-drive sedan that makes you feel special. “I’m very pleased with the way it drives, and I really like the design,” Cortina said. Yet three things sunk the LS: its tight rear seat, user-unfriendly technology, and sticker price. In committing these errors, Lexus left enough room for our winner to sneak by—just as the German brands left a similar opportunity for Lexus back in 1989.

I have to say, this result surprised us. It’s easy to dismiss upstart luxury automakers such as Genesis as luxury car imitators. But the G90 is no knock-off Rolex—it’s a proper luxury flagship in its own right. Although we admittedly wish the G90 made more of a visual statement, the cabin is comfortable, luxurious, and filled with the latest creature comforts and semi-autonomous technologies. The drive is smooth yet engaging. And its value story is undeniable. “Value shouldn’t be a top concern in this segment,” Gale said, “but it’s hard to ignore a car that competes so well yet still leaves enough money left over for a kitchen remodel or a Hyundai Sonata for your kid.”

After all, the rich don’t get richer by spending their money—and the Genesis G90 is not only a convincing S-Class alternative but is also a proper executive luxury sedan. Welcome to the club.